I'm done with this whole 'life' thing
by SarahJane001
Summary: Just a representation of how I think Ahsoka would feel. Rated T for mentions of suicide and some very dark thoughts.


**Hey guys. I have had some of the worst writers block ever, and I've just been having a horrible day for like the past 2-3 months, and I think I just wanted to rant. But more importantly, Fanfiction is like the only thing I can take joy in now, because I hate almost everybody and I have like no friends that don't annoy the crap out of me. But it's all right, I'm not a people person anyways. I have been thinking a lot, and decided that my feelings are kind of relatable. So here ha go. Enjoy! Just a dumb one-shot, I probably won't take this any farther. **

Ahsoka's POV

_Slash...cut...chop..._ _Is there anything more to my life than cutting down these stupid machines? Oh, hi. Welcome to my brain. Ok...so I've been having sort of an internal crisis, and I would love an opinion. Care to listen? _

_I have been feeling this way for a long time, and I don't know what to do. I am just so sick of...well, everything! It feels like I'm in a rut, you know? I can just predict everything, and I can honestly say I hate my life. I'm done with this whole life thing. Absolutely, utterly, undeniably done. The only "friends" I have are Anakin, Obi-wan, and Barriss, and they're all driving me crazy. I can just feel it, there is always a constant source of anger in me, and I find it very, very easy to hate. I wish I had somebody to talk to other than my friends, because Anakin will only tell me about how 'when I was a Padawan this' , and 'when I was your age that', Obi-wan will preach to me about how my feelings are wrong, and I feel like I always complain to Barriss, and there's nothing left to talk about. I need a change of scenery, bu I don't have one. I feel sick, like there is nothing to live for. And it's true, there isn't anything. I'm a Padawan, for force's sake, I'm not important. And my friends? They would get over me really quickly. I'm tired of waking up everyday, to another day of mediocrity and desolation. I hate it. The only time I'm ever happy anymore is for the first five seconds when I wake up, and don't remember who I am or where I'm going. Those five seconds are pretty much the only reason I can still hang on. I'm going crazy. If it wasn't for the fact that I don't want to endure the punishment, I would have probably killed myself a long time ago. But, I haven't yet and probably never will, so here I still am. Anakin constantly asks me what's wrong, as if it's that simple. Like he can just suddenly understand and change everything. Why am I never happy anymore, master? Because I have no excuse. No buffer. I want a change; no, I need a change, but I can't have one. I wish all the time for death, and not even just me. Sometimes I wish our gunship will get shot down. Me, Anakin, clones and all..._

_Dark, isn't it? This is how I've been thinking for weeks! Imagine, the one Jedi that desperately hopes that everyone she knows would die. That everyone who's ever hurt me will drop dead. That the universe will come crashing down, killing everybody. Nobody should have the right to a happy life, if only some people get it. That some people inherently have everything, and others are forced to struggle through life. It's not fair. And that's why I can't be happy. Because I know that no matter what I do, I can't influence my own death like that. I couldn't committ suicide, and I'm too much of a coward to die in battle, but I can't ever be lucky enough to be the victim of an accident. That people who want to live can get killed at the drop of a hat, while those who absolutely hate living have to drag on for an entire lifetime before they are endowed with relief. I can't go on like this much longer, I know that for sure. I can feel myself going crazy, and I can't stop it or slow it down. _

_Sometimes I wonder if this is what the dark side is like. If, the only difference between me and a Sith is that I wouldn't take action into my own hands. That thought used to scare me, but now it seems like a fact. And you know what? I'm okay with it. What's the point anymore, I don't care. I want some sort of relief from this horrible prison of thoughts, but there is none. That's why I can't smile anymore, that I will never be able to really be happy again, because of the torture that my own brain is inflicting on me. The only thing worse than sadness, or anger, or pain, or anything at all, is what I feel. Nothingness. Hopelessness. I see no point in anything anymore. There is no point in living for me, but I will keep hanging on. Keep fighting, like a good soldier does. Because that's all I am, or at least what I feel like. A dispensable clone. I can't believe how optimistic some of the clones can be? They are literal pawns, controlled by the rest of us pawns, in life's horrible chess game. We're all born to die, and they die so others can live... It's contradictory. But hey, I guess I can stick around until death decides to come to me, instead of seeking it out. As they say, some things are worth waiting for, and I suppose relief is worth the wait. _

_So yeah, that's what's been going on in my lonely little head. Like I said before, welcome to my brain, a sad and empty place where I can come and escape for a little while before returning to the barren wasteland that is my life, enjoy your stay. _


End file.
